


Winter Blues

by amerrierworld



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Sick!Reader, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerrierworld/pseuds/amerrierworld
Summary: You thought staying in bed by yourself was the best way to spend your day, but a couple of girlfriends have other plans.
Relationships: Debbie Ocean/Reader, Lou Miller (Ocean's)/Reader, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean/Reader
Kudos: 53





	Winter Blues

**Author's Note:**

> request: “where reader is sick and the two of them worry about the reader”

Your phone had been ringing on-and-off again all morning, muffled by a pillow thrown on your nightstand. The flu had decided to visit you after one too many nights out with Lou and Debbie, and you were slowly starting to regret your decisions.

A _ding_ of a text notification sounded, then another, and another. You knew it was either Lou or Debbie, they were the only one who’d keep bothering you this much during the day. 

_‘sick today. can’t come to dinner.’_ you had texted them when you’d woken up groggy and feverish. Not even five minutes had passed before Debbie was texting you, asking how high your temperature was, if you were staying in bed, and texting you all sorts of antibiotic label names that you couldn’t keep track of. 

Lou had tried to call, but you’d let it go to voicemail. Not that you didn’t want to talk to them, but because you felt your dry throat wouldn’t be up to a conversation, and you didn’t want to worry them even more. 

So you ignored them, and drifted in and out of consciousness, riddled with sickly dreams and an upset stomach. Snow was falling outside, and it was cloudy and grey, much like how you were feeling. 

You woke to a rattling on your front door, followed by harsh whispers and hurried footsteps. You barely got a chance to open your eyes before two figures crowded your bed. 

“G’morning,” you tried to say, but it came out more as a rude croak.

“Morning? More like late afternoon,” Lou scoffed, grabbing the dirty tissues off of your nightstand and cleaning up the mess you’d made. Her face was all-natural today, you noticed. No heavy eyeliner or mascara. Hair half-pulled up and wearing soft slacks and a bomber jacket with a t-shirt under it. 

Debbie was looking more casual than usual as well. She was wearing leggings and an oversized knitted sweater rather than her typical chic and sophisticated look. She was fussing over the corners of your blankets and tucking them in properly. 

You’d barely gotten a chance to sit up as a platter with toast and orange juice was shoved in front of your face.

“Have you eaten?” Debbie asked, sitting on the side of your bed. You shrugged, answering her question. 

“I really appreciate it,” you swallowed heavily, “but I don’t know if I can keep anything down right now.”

“Nonsense, just a little bite, okay?”

Debbie tried to lift a bite up for you to eat on a fork, but instead, your reflexes convulsed and you vomited over the side of the bed. Your girls were there, Debbie grabbed the trashcan to catch the puke, and Lou grabbed your hair to keep out of your face as you got rid of what little food you had in your system. 

Coughing a bit, you settled back in the pillows, muttering an apology. 

“Shouldn't you be getting ready for dinner? Those reservations you made...” you began, feeling guilty at making both of them staying here with you.

“The restaurant will still be there when you get healthy again, sweetheart, no rush,” Lou said, brushing damp hair out of your face. “We’re staying here with you until you feel better.”

“You may have to replace your front door lock though, Lou thought it a good idea to break in.”

“That’s because _you_ forgot to bring the spare on the way here!”

You giggled quietly, before saying, “but I’ll get both of you sick if you stay here!”

“Don't be ridiculous. Our immune systems are out of this world.”

You tried to argue with the two of them, but once these partners in crime had their minds set on something, they weren’t going to be persuaded otherwise. Lou managed to help you drink some water while Debbie grabbed fresh sheets that didn’t smell of sick and sweat. 

Too tired to get out of the bed and take a shower, your girlfriends compromised and helped you take off your shirt before rubbing a damp, soothing washcloth up and down your perspired torso. Debbie brushed your hair, using a bit of dry shampoo to last you until you could get to the bathroom. 

Lou, ever the smart ass, chucked a fresh shirt of yours in the dryer so it came out hot and sweet-smelling. As soon as you’d put it on you felt yourself drifting off to sleep again. 

Debbie checked your temperature as you dozed on and off, opening your window to let in some fresh air, tidying up the room and prepping some snacks in the kitchen. Lou helped you clean your face a bit, rubbed moisturizer on your cheeks and massaged your back and shoulders before holding you close.

“I’m gon’ get you sick,” you protested, but she shushed you, turning on the TV to whatever movie was playing.

Satisfied that she’d cleaned almost your entire home, Debbie came back to your bedroom and stripped until she was just in her sweater and underwear. Lou did the same, before the women climbed under the clean sheets with you and held you close.

“You two are a pair of fussy old women, you know that?” you mumbled, your nose stuffy and voice sore. 

“Yes, obviously, but you love us, so no complainin’,” Lou swatted your hand.

“You decided to ignore us on the phone, so now you have to deal with us taking care of you, because clearly you’re not up for it yourself,” Debbie gave you a pointed look. You grumbled under your breath, feeling like a scolded child, but shimmying closer to their comfortable body heat all the same.

“This is a terrible movie, Lou, why would you put that on?”

“It was just what’s on right now, okay? Don’t come for my ass.”

“Give me the remote, if we’re gonna be here we have to at least have good entertainment.”

“Why do you always get to pick the film, huh, Ocean?”

“Because _you_ have terrible taste!”

Snuggled under your blankets, with three pairs of warm legs rubbing comfortably up against each other, you smiled drowsily at their familiar bickering. Debbie put on an old Christmas movie, and they started up again, this time comparing reboots with the originals. 

At some point Lou made popcorn, and you managed to eat a couple because of how light they were, it was easy to keep down. Another glass of water, and a couple of apple slices. It had begun to grow dark, but neither of your bed partners made any move or sign that they were leaving any time soon.

“Are you staying the night?” you asked them as Lou leaned over to flick on the lamp on your nightstand. 

“Of course, silly,” Debbie said, taking your temperature again. “Oh, look, your fever’s not as high anymore.”

“I still feel terrible though,” you murmured. 

“You should sleep. Hopefully some rest will help break the fever,” this time her voice was soft and gentle.

“We’ll go to the couch if you _really_ wanna get rid of us,” Lou added, “but we’re not going anywhere, not until you’re okay again.”

“No, don’t go, please? It’ll be so cold without you,” you admitted. 

Lou and Debbie shared a mutual look, and not another word was said for the reest of the night. Lou pulled you to lay your head on her chest, pulling the blankets up snugly to your shoulders, and Debbie wrapped her arms around you from behind, spooning you until you felt a comfortable warmth spread through your body. You drifted away into a calm, dream-less sleep, your fever already starting to break. 


End file.
